Going Home

Chapter 1: The Confusing Part

 She often enjoyed the rain; the cool drops of water, the smell of it, even the dimming of natural light put her at ease. Of course, when it was pouring, it became a hassle. That day was decidedly a hassle as the heaven seemed to drop all of the water it contained onto the Earth. Nevertheless, she hurried on her way, not stopping to admire the lights in reflecting through the darkness. It was her day off, so she was dressed casually for the cold weather; leggings, the old fashioned ankle-length lace up boots, a gray fisherman sweater, and a black peacoat; unfortunately, she had forgotten her umbrella so her copper colored hair was drenched. She was pale which made her green eyes stand out. She fit into the scenery of the city but Caoimhe Levecque was a product of a small town transplanted into a city; she had spent most of her life in the more rural areas of Massachusetts, but now found herself in Boston, working her way up the corporate ladder. She had long ago adjusted to the bustle of the city, having attended Boston University. The young woman had studied Political Science, but had found herself stuck in a mediocre office job thanks to the plummeting economy. Political tension was ripe, but the jaded female found herself resigning herself to the life punching numbers. She hated it. She hated her life. Often, she had found her mind wandering, imagining the political activism of centuries ago. Caoimhe read often and voraciously, especially books that contained political turmoil. Her mind was on one such book when it happened. That blinding light, that screech; it happened so fast that she was powerless to stop it.

"Move out of the way!"

Caoimhe blinked, lowering her arms. She had prepared for the impact, but instead found herself blocking the way of a carriage. The chill was still in the air as was the rain, but the smell was different. It was putrid, foul. She quickly looked around in confusion. The street wasn't the street she had been on. When did I end up in historical Boston? Is this some sort of re-enactment? People are dressed very oddly, very much like the very beginning of the Industrial Revolution. Why is everything so filthy and smelly? Everything is so confusing.

"Are you deaf and dumb? Something wrong in the head? I said move!" An older man sitting on the driver's seat of a carriage glared down at her. His face was haggard and his teeth yellow. His white hair peeked out from underneath his top hat and a cloak was wrapped tightly around him. A middle-aged coachman sat beside him, looking more concerned than angered.

"I-I... S-sorry!" She ran across the street, nearly running into horses and carriages and people. Just what is going on? A horse reared up and she tripped, landing with a hard thud. She struggled to get up as the horse was coming down; she felt a strong hand grasp her wrist and pull her out of the street. When she looked up, she saw a young man with messy, curly blonde hair pulling her away from the crowd. He wore a serious look on his face. Caoimhe stumbled as he came to a stop and turned to look at her.

"Your disguise isn't very good and you don't seem to be very smart?"

Caoimhe blinked in confusion, "Excuse me?"

"Your outfit shows that you still have feminine features, your hair is too long, and you just stood in the middle of the street. You could have been killed," his voice was powerful and easy to listen to she found. But his words irritated her.

"I wasn't hiding that I'm a woman and for your information I think I'm lost, which is weird because I've lived here for years now. I'm trying to get to Fanueil Hall, I'm meeting some friends at Dick's."

"Fanueil Hall? Where's that? I've never heard of it?"

"Are you new to Boston?"

The man looked at her as if she were crazy and she became even more irritated and confused.